


Forgiven

by meowitskatmofo



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Smut, So does Zevran, Sort Of Fluff, Taliesen is a butt, The Warden has feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 12:18:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13213620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowitskatmofo/pseuds/meowitskatmofo
Summary: Zevran leaves the Warden after a blast from the past rocks his world. What's going to happen! Will their relationship survive? What will they do?They bang. Yeah. Okay?! That's what they do.But wait, who's watching them!?





	Forgiven

Night had fallen over the camp and the moon hung high in the sky. The fire was still crackling as it worked its way through the last of the fading embers. The only other sound was the occasional roaring belch or ripping flatulence from Oghren. The feisty dwarf had drunk himself into a coma and was curled up next to the fire, the location of his pants unknown. 

The Warden carefully stepped over his snoozing companion to tend to the dying fire, chucking a few more logs on. The rest of the camp had long turned in for the night, but he found he himself could not sleep. His mind was too worried, too stressed; what had happened today still didn’t sit well with him. 

Zevran. 

The fight. 

The Warden closed his eyes, sighing haggardly. 

The fire started to rumble back to life and he stepped back over Oghren and away from the camp. At the edge of the fire’s light, he found a tree to lean against, and here he paused, still trying to make sense of it all. He looked back over his shoulder to the camp; his gaze paused on the empty spot where Zevran’s tent should have been. 

In an aching wave, the day’s events came crashing back over him. 

Taliesen had come to finish what Zevran had not been able to. Taliesen followed in his former partner’s footsteps; that is to say, he failed just as Zevran had to kill to Warden. Taliesen fought until his last breath and in his death, the elf finally found a chance for true freedom. 

And then Zevran left. 

The Warden sighed again at himself. It hadn’t been that simple. Zevran hadn’t just left, the Warden had told him to leave, and now he regretted it more than anything else in his entire life. He was surprised at himself, how much he already missed him and hated himself all the more for how he had acted. 

Zevran had taken him aside to talk, and the Warden said everything wrong. His lover had told him this was a great opportunity, he could go see the world, free of the Crows and safe from worry that they would ever come after him. They would all assume he had died with Taliesen at the hands of the fierce Grey Warden. 

The Warden had been hurt, angry, and terribly confused with how he felt about it. He was happy for Zevran to finally be free, but he cared about him; cared too much, he decided. It would be better for both of them to end it now, let them both be free. After all, Zevran hadn’t said anything about wanting to stay and as much as it hurt him, the Warden told him to leave. 

And had hated himself every minute since, left only wishing he had done something differently. 

There was a sound, a rustle of the foliage a few yards away. The Warden snapped to attention, his hand going to the hilt of his sword, demanding of the darkness, “Who goes there! Identify yourself or meet my steel!” 

“It is… only I,” a familiar voice said. 

The Warden squinted at the shadows, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw the slim figure of Zevran himself coming towards him. He let his guard down, a mix of emotions tackling him to see his lover again so soon; especially after how much he had been thinking about him. 

Zevran couldn’t help but offer a tiny smile, even if it was tinged with sadness. He didn’t know what he was doing here, not exactly. He hadn’t made it very far before realizing he had left the Dalish gloves behind that the Warden had given to him a week earlier. He had been wracked with indecision about whether to go back and get them, such a fine gift could never be replaced or the sentiment they carried. 

Zevran had finally decided to come back to the camp, but it was not only for the gloves; it was hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who had given them to him, the man whose bed he had shared for several moons, the man he thought he might actually… 

“I thought you were leaving,” the Warden said sharply, interrupting Zevran’s thoughts. The Warden was trying to remain stoic, but he could barely contain his happiness at seeing Zev again. 

“I am,” Zevran snapped back haughtily, his smile vanishing at the Warden’s harsh tone, “I just came back to get a few of my things.” The elf was scowling and his hands set firmly on his hips in a defiant stance, adding, “Unless, of course, you wish me to leave so quickly?” 

“No,” the Warden said, his voice softening. He moved aside to let Zevran pass, watching him head back into the camp. He watched the elf rummage around the empty space where his tent had been and retrieve a small sack. His eyes remained locked on his lover as he walked back towards him. 

Zevran held the sack close, tucking it into his belt as he approached. He tried to give another weak smile but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted to say a hundred things, tell the Warden he wasn’t sure what he felt but that he wanted to keep feeling it even as much as it terrified him. 

Instead, he said nothing. It would be easier to leave if he kept all of his rampaging thoughts to himself. He only gave a small nod, starting to exit the camp back into the forest the way he came. 

"Why won’t you stay?” the Warden suddenly demanded. 

"Why didn’t you tell me to stay?” Zevran countered, stopping short. 

“You need my permission?” the Warden scoffed. 

“I don’t know; do I need it now?” 

"This is ridiculous! It’s a simple question!” the Warden growled, shoving his face into his hands. 

“Is it so?” Zevran sneered, his tone sickeningly sweet with venom. “As I recall, you’re the one who told me to go!” 

“No,” the Warden said slowly, trying to be patient. “I told you that you could if you wanted to. I relieved you of your oath. You said this was, this was a new freedom for you! With Taliesen dead, you were finally free from the Crows! What kind of man would I be to keep you chained to some stupid oath!” 

"It was not a stupid oath!” Zevran cried, gritting his teeth in his frustration. “It was an oath I meant to see through until the end!” 

“Then why in the Maker’s name did you leave!” the Warden snarled. 

"Because you did not ask me to stay!” Zevran snapped, advancing on the other man quickly. “If you had wanted me to remain at your side, all you had to do was ask it of me. If you had wanted me to walk on hills of broken glass or drink poison or march with you into the very depths of the Fade, to be at your side as we laid siege to the fiends of the Black City, any of it, all of it, was yours for the asking!” 

The Warden reached out for Zevran, struck deeply by the tenderness of his words. 

Zevran jerked away from his hand, hissing, “But no! You did nothing of the sort. You told me to go when all you had to do was ask me to remain here with you! Your pride getting in the way? Worried about appearances in front of the others? Ha! Whatever the reason, what is done is done. I have always told you that whatever future we have together is yours to decide. Today, you decided.” 

“No, today, I tried to give you something you never had before!” the Warden said, again reaching for Zevran and made his mark, grabbing his arm roughly. “I gave you a choice! A chance for you to decide what you wanted! No contracts, no obligations, no oaths to fulfill, I want you to do whatever it was Zevran wanted to do!” 

Zevran looked down at the Warden’s iron grip on his arm. He was trying not to think about how those hands once felt running all over his body, how rough they could be when they would seize his hips, but then how surprisingly gentle as they would be as they would race through his hair. 

Zevran cleared his throat as he fought off an involuntary shudder, saying quietly, “What I want is not so simple…” 

The Warden pulled the elf closer, close enough that their breastplates bumped together. He gently raised his hand to touch Zevran’s face, his fingers idly tracing the tattooed lines to rest on his chin. He turned the elf’s face upwards but found his eyes still averted. 

Zevran refused to look up at him but allowed himself to be held. His heart was racing already being so near his lover. He sensed the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand at strict attention as the Warden pulled him even closer. He fought off another shiver, feeling hot breath against his ear as the Warden bowed his head against the elf’s shoulder. 

The Warden sighed gently, asking, “Tell me, what is it that you want?” 

“What do you want?” Zevran challenged, pressing his fingers against the Warden’s broad chest. 

"Oh, no,” the Warden said stubbornly, “We’re talking about you here.” He softly pressed his lips against Zevran’s neck, working his way up onto his ear and letting his tongue slide over its sharp point. 

Zevran tried to ignore the pleasure, scoffing playfully, “Is this how you apologize to all of your scorned lovers that you run off? Let’s see, is this the part where I forgive you for being such a bastard and fall into your arms? Beg you to take me?” 

“Never had much reason to apologize for anything,” the Warden said after a moment’s pause. “But this, what happened today. I thought I was doing what was best, what you wanted.” 

“Then perhaps you should have taken the time to ask me!” Zevran snapped, more bitterly than he had meant to. “And it wouldn’t have hurt to have heard your own feelings on the matter! I have always told you that what this is between us, where it goes, was up to you! Your decision to make! 

“What was I to think when you said nothing against my leaving?” Zevran scowled slightly, hearing a particularly loud trumpet of body function from Oghren. Remembering they were far from alone, he dropped his voice to a frustrated whisper, hissing, “Well?” 

The Warden circled his arms tightly around Zevran’s waist, nuzzling the flesh of his neck with his mouth as he murmured, “I think it should be clear how I feel about it. So, what about you? Is this the right time to ask you to forgive me for being such a bastard? You already appear to be in my arms, so at least we’re going in the right direction.” 

Zevran wanted to resist but he couldn’t stop himself. There was a danger in what he felt, something new and frightening that made him wary of exploring it further. As risky as it seemed, it was also exciting. The elf finally met the Warden’s gaze, hoping he could find clarity in his lover’s eyes. All he saw was a deep tenderness that confounded him further. 

Given Zevran’s silence, the Warden continued, “We’ve never discussed the particulars of… our relationship. I’m not even sure what we have but… with you gone, I never wanted anything back so terribly in my entire life and-“ 

Zevran slid a finger over the Warden’s lips, silencing him with a soft kiss. He slowly pulled back, whispering, “You are mostly forgiven for being a bastard. But not completely. It is part of your charm, after all.” 

“So, are we finally at the part where you beg me to take you?” the Warden asked slyly. 

Zevran chuckled darkly, nipping at the Warden’s jaw as he purred, “Ah, my dear Warden, you’ll be the one begging soon enough.” 

"We’ll see about that,” the Warden said, smirking. He roughly slammed his lips against Zevran’s, relishing in the moan he found tumbling out from beneath them. He had missed his taste, his scent, how good it felt to kiss him. He made short work of Zevran’s armor, eagerly tearing them off and tossing them aside. 

Zevran's hands moved to strip the Warden with equal quickness, sighing with satisfaction to feel his warm flesh pressing against his. So enraptured with his lover, he didn’t notice a hint of movement from the fire at camp. It could have been that he simply did not care. 

With a wicked smile, the elf pushed the Warden against the trunk of the tree. The Warden gasped into surprise, he forgot how strong his lithe lover was and how easily he found himself forced against the tree. Zevran slid his hands down the Warden’s sides, slowly moving downward. 

He marked his descent with small kisses and bites, spending a few seconds to lavish and tease the Warden’s nipples with his tongue. Hearing the Warden purr only motivated him to fulfill his task, dropping to his knees in front of the other man. He pressed his lips against the Warden’s thigh, his hand moving to rub his groin. 

Zevran smiled smugly, finding that his hand didn’t have much work to do as he discovered the Warden’s cock was already at full attention. He slowly slipped it free from its smallclothes prison, closing his eyes and lavishing its tip with his tongue. He took his time, waiting until he felt the Warden’s fingers tugging at his hair, encouraging him to finally take accept his full girth into his mouth with long, tender strokes. 

From the campfire, there was another rustle of life. Oghren was stirring and with the haze of drink still clouding his eyes, he blearily stared out into the darkness. He kept thinking he was hearing something out there and fumbled around into a sitting position. The dwarf peered around the camp but stopped when his vision fell on something particularly interesting. 

He saw the Warden leaning against a tree and Zevran, that primpy elf, was kneeling down in front of him and whoa. Oghren thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head and he started grinning from ear to ear. He reached beside him to find his flask of ale and took a big gulp. It was a free show; and his pants were already off. 

The Warden didn’t even notice their audience and even if he had, he likely would not have cared. He was staring down at Zevran, watching his cock ride in and out of the elf’s mouth with precise and savage expertise. When he felt nimble fingers begin to massage his sac and work his inner thigh, he nearly lost it. 

Zevran could sense the Warden’s approaching climax and he promptly stopped, pulling back from him and asking innocently, “What is it, my Warden? Is something the matter? Sensing darkspawn nearby?” 

The Warden groaned in frustration and slid down the tree to sit at its base, staring bemusedly at the elf. He pulled Zevran towards him, reaching down to find his lover’s willing erection and smiled darkly. He leaned down and ran his mouth over Zevran’s member, just enough to moisten it. 

The Warden then rolled to lay on his back, hooking his legs around Zevran’s waist and pulling him on top of him. 

Zevran smirked, gladly accepting his new mounted position. He put his weight on one hand, the other moving to again take the Warden’s cock, this time seizing it in tender, slow strokes against his stomach. He grabbed oil from his scattered belongings, quickly slicking himself up. He began to purr when he felt the Warden take over begin to work his cock inside of him. 

Zevran moaned softly when he felt the head of his erection first gain penetration inside the Warden, and another low groan escaped him as he slid further in. He worked his hips in the same slow rhythm that he stroked the Warden, arching his back to gain a deeper thrust to fully seat himself. 

The Warden grabbed Zevran’s arse firmly with both hands, pushing him to move; faster, harder, anything. He growled in a mix of pain and delight as Zevran met his request with a brutal slam, speeding up the rate at which he stroked him to match the newfound pace. 

Zevran bowed his head down, finding the Warden’s mouth and kissing him, then burying his lips against his neck. He was panting already, overcome by the feral way the Warden bucked his hips to meet every one of his thrusts with incredible finesse. He couldn’t believe he was already so close, it was almost right there. 

The Warden realized Zevran was nearing his own sweet end and with a wicked smile, he pushed his exuberant lover off of him; denying the elf his release just as he had denied him moments ago. He chuckled as he heard Zevran growl in frustration, trying to force his way back in. 

"One good tease deserves another,” the Warden said sagely, sighing happily as he continued to refuse Zevran’s advances. “Now, who was going to be begging who again? You might need to refresh my memory.” 

“You really are a bastard,” Zevran seethed, falling back on his knees. He didn’t remain kneeling for long, he found himself shoved onto his back by the Warden who promptly leapt on top of him. He felt the Warden’s fumbling hands at his groin, the clink of the oil bottle, and a loud moan escaped him when the Warden's cock began to push inside him. 

Zevran cried out, his back arching up as the Warden began to move his hips. It was gentle at first, the Warden waiting for his body to accept him, little thrusts slowly working him open. The pace gradually increased, both men groaning loudly as the thrusts deepened. 

Zevran slung his arms around the Warden’s back, dragging his nails across his spine. He moaned delightfully when the Warden grabbed his shivering member, yanking it roughly as he rocked his body against his. 

The Warden worked faster and faster, his passions driven by the sound of Zevran’s murmurs of pleasure. He was so tight and every little noise Zevran made only made the Warden all the more aroused. He knew he wouldn’t last another second longer and he didn’t care, he wanted it so terribly he kept thrusting until he thought he was going to burst. 

A low, rumbling moan escaped the Warden as he came, Zevran’s own cry of pleasure joining his in an erotic symphony. The Warden kept his hand moving until he was certain he had wrung out every last possible shudder, Zevran's hips jerking slightly to signal overstimulation. 

The Warden rolled off of his panting lover, flopping beside him and casting a wayward arm across his stomach. He planted a sloppy and sweaty kiss on him between gasps of breath, saying, “So. Does this mean you’re going to stay?” 

"Does this mean you’re asking?” Zevran asked curtly, a playful brow arching up. 

“Yes,” the Warden said passionately, reaching to take the elf’s hand firmly within his own, “I lost a day with you because of my own foolishness. I don’t know if it’s fate or luck or what power brought you back to me, but I am not going to risk...” The Warden found himself caught up with a surprising amount of emotion, clearing his throat as he tried to regain his posture. 

Zevran was silent, waiting patiently for the Warden to speak. He was moved by the Warden’s tenderness, surprised by how deeply each word hit home inside him. He didn’t think he’d ever known anyone that showed him such care; much less someone he himself cared so much for. 

"I want you to stay here, with me,” the Warden continued, more sure of himself now. He raised Zevran’s hand to his lips, softly kissing it. “For as long as you’ll have me, for as long as I can keep you, so I might spend whatever future time we have together to make up for that lost day.” 

"Then it is settled,” Zevran said contently, resting his head against the Warden’s shoulder. He glanced at the pile of their discarded armaments, his eyes falling on the tiny sack that held his precious gloves. He smiled to himself, now more thankful than ever he had returned to retrieve them. He had ended up taking back everything that had been given to him, most notable of which was claiming his dear Warden’s heart. 

Zevran sensed a hesitation within him, despite how content he felt. This feeling he had when he was near the Warden had a dark uncertainty to it. The Warden drove him on chariots of pleasure up and down the long road of ecstasy, but the emotion between them had long escalated above mere carnal bliss. 

Was Zevran willing to stay along for the ride, see where it might lead them? He ignored the foreboding sensation. For now, this was where he wanted to be, in this man’s arms and faithfully by his side. Zevran smiled softly, saying with a tender sigh, “I am yours.” 

The Warden pulled him close, nuzzling his chin against the elf’s hair. He thought he might be able to fall asleep here, stretched out naked in the grass with Zevran beside him and the stars above them. It was so incredibly peaceful, so perfect, so… what was that noise? 

From the camp, the Warden suddenly noticed a feverish slapping sound. A very annoyed and certainly intoxicated dwarf screamed, “Hey! You two! Back at it! I didn’t get to sodding finish! Encore! Let’s go!” 

The Warden started laughing, Zevran groaning in irritation as he moaned, “Normally, I would not mind an audience, but there is a certain disgusting element to being peeped at by Oghren. And what is he doing? Oh, wow. Just when you think you can no longer be shocked. That is just, ulgh, is all that hair?” 

The Warden snickered, and mischief rapidly tainted his grin. He seductively started massaging Zevran’s lean stomach, slowly moving his hand lower and lower, winking playfully as he asked, “So, does that mean you’re not interested in going again?” 

Zevran smiled naughtily, biting his lip as he watched the Warden’s hand’s descent with great interest, replying lewdly, “Oh, I didn’t say all that, now did I?”

**Author's Note:**

> Bwuhahaha! Good ol' Oghren. I left his name out of the tags so it would be a surprise, but I mean, who else would it be? 
> 
> You know, I never liked how things wrapped up after Taliesen and the earring and all that ship drama. I really wished that the Warden and Zevran had more of a tender moment, some real sense of closure. Especially if you tick him off enough to leave, or refuse to take the earring? Yeah.
> 
> So, this was sort of inspired by all that. Enjoy! Thanks for reading!


End file.
